Their Kind
by ScarletNahla
Summary: When a darker hunger begins to gnaw at D will he be able to resist or will he end up destroying the thing he craves the most?
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

**Prologue**

It had been years. Years since Meier Link had taken Charlotte to the City of the Stars. Years since Leila's death and he had spoken to the child, Erike. Years since the child had grown into a woman and become a hunter alongside her friend. He had raced to get the bounty with them on more than one occasion. Those two had been the best humans in the business. But they had eventually retired. Erike to have a family, and her friend, Chandra, to traveling. Erike had gone peacefully in old age. He had been at the funeral as she requested. Chandra, though, seemed to have disappeared.

With them went the last true human bounty hunters, all that was left now was D, the dhampir vampire hunter.

There were, of course, those poor fools who figured they could be as the best were. The Markius Brothers and their adopted sister, Leila. The Bloody Angels, Erike and Chandra. But they had never lived up to that standard. In fact, they didn't live very long at all.

But there was beginning to be a small rumor wandering around. A whisper of another hunter. One who could match and perhaps surpass the legends. One who was equal with the Vampire Hunter D, himself. Just as fast, as strong, and as thorough. Hell-bent on destroying the Nobles.

The most interesting part, though, was that they were a dhampir.

But, of course, this is all only a rumor. And as we all know, rumors are hardly true.

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><p>AN: This story has been neglected for some time. I have taken it down and will be replacing the already existing chapters with the updated versions. Please read them as there have been some changes made. I look forward to hearing from you soon.


	2. Chapter 2: At Last We Meet

_"So"_, a voice drawled, _"we're going after that Lord Adrian, hmmm? He's not exactly at the bottom of the Vampire food chain, ya know. But then, when did you ever care if it's easy? You don't even like company. I'm surprised you're not out hunting down that other dhampir we've heard rumors about….hmmm? Fine, don't talk to me."_

D just kept riding, dressed head to toe in black. Only his pale hands and part of his face showing. A wide brimmed hat covered half of his face, thick wavy brown hair fell to his waist. Broad shoulders tapering down to a thin waist then narrow hips. Long legs ended in calf high boots. His sword was strapped across his back, the handle protruding over one shoulder. A large blue pendent hung in the center of the deep chest. D, the son of a human woman and the Vampire King, rode on.

He was tracking the vampire's trail down a barely discernible road. On to the next town, and then the next after that.

A vampire who had slaughtered a whole family and taken the only boy. A 5 year old with big green eyes and pale brown hair named Calebb. Why Adrian had taken only the boy and not any of the sisters, D didn't know. Nor was he very concerned about it. All he wanted was to get the boy and kill the vampire.

_If luck holds the boy will be alive, though I doubt_.

As he crested the last rise, the town he had been headed toward spread before him, dry fields leading the way in. As he made his way toward it he could hear the nagging start going on about passing out from overheating and needing out of the sun. He kept at it until D stopped in front of an inn. There was another cybernetic horse tied up to the post. A boy came out with a bucket, stopped, and stared at D.

"Mama, there's some'n else here!" After making his announcement he raced off around the side of the building.

A small plump woman with bright eyes and a nervous smile came out.

"Howdy, sir. Will you be stayin' for the night?" D nodded. "Well, tie up that horse and my boy will be back around to take it the stable. Now you just follow me on in here and I'll show ya your room. I'm Rachel, by the way, my husband, Thom is upstairs, and..." she was cut off by the sound of heavy boots on the stairs. "That's him now!"

"Oh, Thom, we have another guest. Now," she said, turning back to face him", dinner will be in about an hour and its included. So, Thom will take you on up to your room. Is there anything else? Hm...?

"No."

"Well then, come on lad, this way." The man,Thom, turned and went through a short hall to the stairs. Up the stairs and then down the hall he followed the other man. At the last door on the right they stopped. "Now, this be your room. And that'un" a gesture to the door next to his, "belongs to a lass. I expect since your both so quite and all you'll be given each other no trouble." With that the man left, boots clomping down the hall leaving D to close his door and look around the small room.

The room itself was nothing spectacular. A bed, just large enough for his tall frame, a small side table with lantern, and an oval shaped thread-bare rug on the floor. A thin door would lead to a closet, another to a small washroom. The best thing about the room was the window. It was near four feet off the floor with a deep padded sill perfect for sitting, even for him. The view was of the stable and yard.

D walked over to the open window and sat on the deep sill to look out over the stable yard and the two horses. Past the stable he could see men coming home and women taking down laundry. The ringing sounds of laughter gave testimony to children still outside playing. He sat for a while just watching the animals grazing on barren ground and listening to the sounds of a normal life when he heard a call for dinner from below.

On his way to the stairs he heard a muffled cursed come from the room next to his, but paid it no heed.

When he came into the common room he saw two bowls sitting on one of the tables in the room. The table was off to the side of the room and he took the chair that faced both the stairs and the door. Rachel came out of another door carrying two mugs filled with water. She set them on the table and smiling said, "I'll just leave you to eat and you just call if you need anythin, we wont get folks in here for another hour or so", while trying to see his face under his hat. She turned and moved a step, stopping almost immediately. He looked at her and could clearly hear the whispered, "Oh, my..."

He saw that where the woman had stopped blocked his view of the stairs. There was the soft scuff of someone coming onto the common room floor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you", soft voice.

As Rachel stepped toward the kitchen with a quiet, "That's alright, dear," he couldn't help but stare. There seemed to be amusement glittering in her eyes, very odd eyes at that, they were that strange golden color that only a cat's eyes should be. As she turned back to look at him D felt his face settle back into perfect blankness.

_Impossible_, he thought looking at the girl while she stood there studying him, _absolutely impossible. I was sure I was the only one left, the last, regardless of rumor. When in hell's name was_ she_ born?_

There was no doubt, though, what this girl was. She was as pale as he, as pale as death, the paleness of a vampire. She wore a deep red, loose cotton shirt, black fitted pants tucked into soft leather boots. Her forearms were wrapped in black cotton strips, as his were beneath his armor. She was slim, muscled, but petite, she looked as if she wouldn't even reach his chin. The most startling, aside from her eyes, was her hair. It was silver, not the pure white of some vampires but true silver, like silken strands of moonlight and fairy dust.

"Do you mind?" She gestured to the table and the second bowl, he shook his head. She came forward in an almost silent glide, settling into the chair gently.

As both began eating he couldn't help but to study the girl further. With that remarkable hair braided over one shoulder it was easy to see that her ears came up to a point like his and her delicate aristocratic features were a blatant sign of the ancient blood that ran through her veins. She was slender through the shoulders, narrow of waist, with lean hips leading into long legs. Though small she had still moved with a predator's grace.

All the while they had been eating he knew she too was studying him. With only a little over half their bowls empty both seemed to have come to a stopping point. He was surprised that she had even eaten at all.

"Your name is D, isn't it?"

He shifted his eyes to hers and nodded.

"Then you must be at least fair with that sword of yours, yes?"

He said nothing, just sat there watching. Seeing as she was actually waiting for an answer he nodded once more.

She smiled slightly, "Will you show me how good?"

A moment of silence before rising from his seat and starting outside. He was actually curious how good this girl might be, if at all. He heard the light sound of her going up the stairs as he exited the building. A few heartbeats later and she was close behind, following him to the bare area behind the inn.

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><p>"Are you sure?" He couldn't help but ask her, she knew. Dhampir or no she was sure he didn't think she strong enough to truly fight him.<p>

"What is your name, child?" Irritation at the implication.

"You may call me Wren, hunter. It is the only name I will give you."

The name was not one that was real, even as amusement flashed through her and a smiled curled her lips.

She could feel his doubt; could also feel the brooding sadness, the loneliness that was overwhelming. Even shielding as hard as she could she could still feel the press of his emotions, the bitter taste of them sliding down her throat. The ability to feel others emotions as her own made such things distracting. Her mother had called it a gift and she swore it was a curse.

_ No, best to not dwell in the past. Not to remember such things, such times._

She knew, better than most, the pain and price of dwelling on the past. She suspected that he did as well.

Swords drawn and at the ready both opponents studied each other, gauging stance and strength in one glance. Even as he stood there D couldn't help but notice that her silver hair looked to have glints of fire in the glaring light of the late afternoon sun. Or that for all the hot dustiness surrounding them she seemed to be this quiet oasis. The kind that beckoned a man to rest without worry or care.

D realized with a shock what he was thinking, what the mere sight of this girl had him feeling, wanting. Giving himself a mental shake he shifted his stance just slightly then lunged.

She was ready in a sideways guard stance, even as his blade arced up and back down with blinding speed she was swinging hers up to meet and block. Breaking away he came in with a side cut; Wren parried and darted back, out of reach, circling warily. _At least she's __cautious_, he thought.

D spun and hacked: blocking his powerful swing made her shoulder ache. Stepping back, she assumed a two-handed guard position. He cut down and in; she responded her blade moving as rapidly as his own.

The exchange stretched out in strikes, blocks, and parries, neither opponent gaining an advantage. Both D and Wren had begun to sweat in the oppressive heat, a testimony to the effort both were actually putting forth. Throughout the exchange she had studied D's style , as she knew he had studied hers, searching for and flaw, any she blocked swiftly, parried his return cut, blocked him again – and came up into a split second opening, barring his sword are with her shoulder as her blade snaked up to kiss his throat.

They froze in place for a moment, both slowing their breathing and bringing their heart rate back under control.

"You're good." He lowered his sword as he said it and Wren stepped back. "I haven't lost to any one in a very long time."

"You held back, didn't you?" Those curious laughing eyes watched as he sheathed his sword. "No, I didn't." He watched as a single pale eyebrow arched.

"Oh, really. You could have fought as well without your sword, if you had used anything else I would have been out of the match."

"Perhaps," he murmured, "but you asked to test yourself against me with a sword, and in that we are equals." He saw the surprise flash across her face before she started laughing. It was a pure sound, something he wasn't expecting from one such as her.

Turning towards the inn, Wren a step in front of him, the sight of an awe struck audience greeted them. Tension washed through him as the crowd stared. A sudden roar of clapping startled them both. They seemed to have nearly every towns member show up to watch, and now they were applauding.

Rachel came forward carrying two skins full of cool water, explaining that Jacob had spread the news of their little display of swordsmanship.

The crowd began gathering around them shouting questions. Some asking if they gave lessons, others of where they had learned such skills. Surrounded on all sides Wren stepped back into D, making a solid line with their bodies from her soldier to her hip. He lifted a hand to press into the small of her back and felt the parasite shift. She glanced back, face as impassive as his own, but there was a tension to her as well.

This close Wren could feel his unease at the crowd, though he showed nothing, and the slight burst of surprising concern directed at her, as well as a faint buzz of something underneath. He turned them slightly, hand directing her in the direction of the inn. She slipped to the side and followed, watching as the crowd parted before him like waves of the ocean pulling back in that old fable about a man and a Sea.

When they left the last of the crowd behind the people all turned on Rachel with their questions. She just looked at them with haughty dignity, asking wasn't there still chores to be done, why be standing in the street?

Entering the relative darkness of the inn, they both relaxed slightly as the last of the curious eyes were blocked by the closing of the door. Wren's laughter rang out again.

"The last time I had a crowd staring at me like that I ended up hanging from a tree," a wry smiled played on her lips as she headed up the steps, "what about you?"

"D?"

Only a few steps from the stairs and D collapsed to his knees, water skin forgotten on the floor. Wren turned to see him braced on hands and knees struggling for air, before he collapsed completely.

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><p>AN: And here is the first chapter, whole and complete. Those returning will notice that it was combined with the following chapter to make a more fluid, longer first. I'm endeavoring to make fuller chapters. We'll see how it goes from here shall we?


	3. Chapter 3: At Least We Meet

She was lifting an unconscious D awkwardly onto her shoulder when Rachel returned. "Bring a deep bowl of cold water and as many cloths or towels as you can." She didn't bother to see if the woman followed her instructions, she was too intent on getting D up the stair and into his room.

By the time Rachel came upstairs she already had D laid out on his bed. The large bowl wasplaced on the side table and the towels on the floor. Watching the stiff and measured movements of the dhampir girl made her nervous, like something was going that she was unwelcome in seeing. Backing out Rachel inquired if she would be needed. A curt shake of the head was all the dismissal she needed before she shut the door hurriedly.

Wren relaxed slightly as the woman left, being in this condition was not safe, and if the woman had stayed she would have found out just how bad D was. Removing his hat she placed it on the floor at the foot of his bed. Moving back to his head she watched as D opened his eyes, wariness evident in his expression. "You're ridiculously overheated, D. Lie still."

Struggling to sit up he ground out an, "I'm fine", before being pushed firmly back into the mattress. She could feel frustration and exhaustion coming off him in waves. It made her bones ache to feel his soul consuming weariness. It made her wonder just how long he had been what he was, a hunter constantly destroying vampires and himself.

They had been wrapped in silence for a moment, both reading different thing in the other.

"You need to cool down, D. You know it, too."

Shifting her hand from his shoulder to the clasp on his cape, she gave him a small teasing smile. "Now, how do you get all this stuff off? It will help you cool faster. You really are burning up, I'm surprised you're still conscious."

D lifted his hand and undid the cape and, with Wrens help, eased it out from under him. Together they managed to get the body armor off. And with her help D was soon free of all armor, sword and boots. With small hands pressing on his shoulders again he lay back, dangerously close to passing out.

Laying wet cold cloth over his forehead she watched has D succumbed to oblivion.

Wren looked down on him and sighed. Left in only a black cotton shirt and fitted black pants he looked different. Not softer, really, but not as unapproachable. Wren slid her fingers slightly across the thick hair lying on the pillow. Smiling that except for the color of shirts and his absence of shoes, they were dressed alike now.

She could still feel that bone deep weariness in him, the quiet painful longing for….something. She didn't know what, sometimes she wished she was psychic.

Wren sighed again and removed the cloth from his face placing it back in the bowl with some of the other soaking hand towels. She unwrapped his forearms, freeing his sleeves. Reaching down she untucked his shirt, pulling it over his head and completely off, tossing it on top of the pile at the foot of the bed. She started covering his chest and wrapping his arms in the cold cloths, replacing the one across his face as well. Rising from her seat on the bed she draped one of the lager hand towel on the back of her neck and across her shoulders.

Finding a comfortable spot on the window sill, she ended up mimicking D's position from earlier.

Letting her gaze settle on the resting dhampir she couldn't help shaking her head.

_Amazing_, _he is simply amazing. I never thought I would ever meet the most famous D._

Smirking in a self-deprecating manner she let he eyes wander over his prone form, the damp cloths seeming to mold to the muscular chest and firm stomach flawlessly. She rubbed the pads of her fingers together remembering the feel of his skin; silk sliding over steel, velvety soft and remarkably enticing. Wren shook her head again, getting up to change the cloths for cooler ones.

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><p>When D opened his eyes he saw nothing but blurred white. Lifting his hand and pulling off the cloth he felt something shift on his chest. Looking down he saw himself to be bare to the waist and white towels spread out across his chest. His forearms had been unbound from their protective wraps and in their place were more towels, there was also one rolled up behind his neck. Doing a mental check of his body he could tell that his equilibrium was steady again.<p>

He looked over to the open window and saw the girl.

_Wren, her name is Wren, and she was the one who did this, who helped me like this._

She was slumped in the window seat, feet braced against the sill, a towel draped around her shoulders and neck, hair loose. A dry breeze blew through and ruffled the girls hair, the three quarter moon was visible from the bed and cast a silver hue to everything in the room.

Again the thought of moonlight and fairy dust floated through the back off his mind. With moonlight falling on Wren's pale skin and hair she seemed to glow, the light wind playing with her hair gave the impression that she was floating. Sitting there, seemingly completely at peace, he could honestly say she was beautiful.

More so than anything or anyone else not just because of looks, but because of her mix of strength and kindness.

Wren was a rare find indeed, and he wanted nothing more in that moment than to make her his, to have her stay by his side for eternity.

The force of this wanting scared him, D, the son of the Vampire King. It scared him because he knew he could do it.

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><p>AN: Hello my dears, I wanted to say that for those of you who have posted reviews before they were accidently deleted by my cat, and I would love to hear from you once more.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4: At Last We Meet

D tugged his boots back into place as the girl stirred. It was just past midnight and the wind from the open window now carried the scent of rain.

"I was raised on stories about you." It was said as a sigh, gold eyes washed pale by starlight fixed on the heavy clouds. "Centuries older than I and you ignore the signs of overheating?" A pale brow arched as she turned to face him, shadows growing deeper as the storm approached. "Is it normal for you to push on 'til you collapse, to become vulnerable like that?"

_She must have been kept by her sire, she speaks like Noble court._

He kept his face impassive as she stood, removed the towel from her shoulders and gathered the pile from the floor.

"The innkeeper", he said, "how much does she know?"

"Little. Enough to worry, she may fuss if she can build up the nerve." A shrug. "I'll leave you to dress." She glanced down and away and D realized he was still sitting on his bed shirtless.

"Thank you."

He watched as she studied him before giving a soft laugh, "Thank _you_ Hunter, for earlier." Then she left, door clicking shut behind her.

Soft steps padded down the hall, presumably to return the towels to the proprietress.

_"Weird kid."_

D didn't respond, just glanced at his sword then turned to the task of redressing.

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><p>The storm had rolled in quickly, drenching dry cracked land with cold and wet. Back in her own room Wren frowned out the closed window watching the rain turn the ground to mud. Laid her own cool fingers against still colder glass.<p>

There would be no riding in this weather. The horse could take the rain and wind and so could she, but the burden that had her heading west would not travel well even wrapped in oil cloth.

Purposely turning her thoughts from the irritation she recounted the match against D this afternoon. If she was being honest with herself, and she always tried to be, the outcome was far from what she had anticipated. Winning a sword match against one such as he was exhilarating and surprising. She didn't even try to fight her grin.

_Although I wouldn't have asked, had I realized._

Grin fading back into a frown as she relived that brief burst of panic. Thankfully the woman, Rachel, had long retired when she brought the towels down.

Stepping away from the window she glanced at the wall between her room and D's before settling on the bed. When she had come back up stairs she had heard two voices. Voices that had stopped the moment she had opened her own door. Movement had been brief and then silence had settled and she had heard no more.

_Perhaps he speaks to himself rather than others. Sounds like a bit of an off thing to do but I know he's lonely._

Which brought to mind that awful sense of isolation she had felt from him, desperate loneliness. She had focused on reinforcing her mental walls while he recovered to the point she could only recognized that someone was there, not what he was feeling. It did leave her muffled even further to the humans around, though. Hours still until dawn made that less of a problem but she didn't like being blind to the feel of the town. She hadn't been lying about being hung from a tree.

Lightening split the sky, casting the room in sharp relief for a moment, before thunder boomed overhead. The glass in the window shook, drawing her eye. One of the best things in the world was the feeling of being wrapped up in a storm while it raged around you.

Another grin stole across her face, dainty fangs gleaming, as she pushed open the window and stole up onto the roof.

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><p>The irritated grumblings and expected smug taunting from his left hand had ceased the moment he had heard the girl's door open. He had not heard her coming down the hall. Nor had he heard anything from her room for the past two hours.<p>

Fruitless to continue his hunt just yet, this fierce a storm would have lightening striking his horse within the hour. Better to wait it out, even though it moved east in the same direction he was traveling. A few more hours and he could be on his way.

Little to do while he waited but sit and think, his own company a familiar and regular occurrence, quiet often his only companion.

Movement from the room next to his drew his attention: a shift of weight, soft steps, the settling of wood and mattress.

_Was she watching the rain?_

Thought of the girl drew memory of her.

Pale light and shadow in his window. Gold eyes closed, leading to her looking soft in sleep. He had watched her for some time after he woke. The realization that he had wanted to keep her had kept him frozen for a long moment. He had needed his all his control to simply watch her without acting on the impulse to touch.

It had been her kindness, he'd decided.

Sitting on his bed watching her rest he had studied each facet that he had come to see in such a short time. Strength at arms in the way she handled her sword. A predator's stealth and grace as she moved about the inn. Fierceness in battle, regardless of it being only a spar. Humor and pride and something quiet and sad. Beauty, both in who she seemed to be and what she was.

He had seen no evidence that she preyed on humans. She had seemed mostly nonviolent, mostly because any being with vampire in their nature was guaranteed some violent tendencies regardless of control. There had been kindness, and it had not been necessary.

Lightning and thunder as he thought, silence disturbed by shaking glass. She could have left him out cold and unable to defend himself on the common room floor, or left him after she had finished placing the towels. She did not have to shield him as she had from the woman Rachel. She could have dumped him in the tub, armor and all, and left him to soak in tepid water. He wondered if it had crossed her mind at all.

But he would not repay kindness with selfishness, no matter how long it had been since he last felt the warmth of friendship.

He heard the shift of mattress and wood again and few swift steps to cross the room, a click, and then the soft _scuf-shoof _ of boots on siding and roof tile. Faint creaks as something ghosted away.

_She is on the roof, why?_

His gaze moved to his own window. Placing his hat beside him on the bed and leaving his sword propped at the end he made his way out into the driving rain and up onto the roof. The tiles were slick but the slope wasn't steep and staying crouched was easy. Clouds low and thick and no lit lamps made the night darker than black.

Ahead, three quarters of the way down the building facing the west and the force of the storm, stood Wren.

Feet braced on the spine of the building, face tilted up, she stood firm while wind and rain tried to force her from her place. Lightning flashed again overhead making silver hair blaze like white fire. Thunder broke less than a heart beat later, rolling on and on, and mixed with it was laughter. Wild and challenging, beckoning.

He was up and moving before he realized. Stopping outside of arms reach he said her name, voice low and mixing with the wind. She still heard him, of course she would, she was dhampir.

Gold eyes wide in her pale face, another flash and boom showing the shock of finding him so close. Her mouth shaped his name in surprise and he was helpless but to watch as she laughed again. Head thrown back, pale throat exposed, clothes and hair clinging, arms thrown wide as she laughed; it was one of the most enticing things he could remember seeing.

"I love storms!" Her voice was pitched to carry even with him next to her. Then she turned her face to him and smiled, bright and true. His heart stopped.

Her eyes narrowed and he wondered if she had heard it. "What are you doing?" Low voice again, making her lean in to catch the question. _What am I doing?_

"Have you never done this", she yelled back. "Embrace a storm! Feel it rage around and through you! Feel it challenge the world and throw everything at you! Scream and laugh and live while it wraps around you!"

He could feel the draw to pull her to him, to let that passion rage against him instead of the weather.

"No."

Another smile, softer this time, "I'm sorry." She turned to face him fully, hair and clothes soaked like his own. "You should."

She stepped around him, footing sure on the slick roof, headed back along the building and disappeared over the side.

He let her go.

And turned his face into the storm.

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><p>AN: I seem to have gotten back into the flow of this story after a very long time, and I'm loving it. Please tell me what you think, I love to hear from you all!<p> 


	5. Chapter 5: At Last We Meet

He had walked out of the inn as she mounted up on Nephrime. Black leather vest and bracers on, sword at her hip, and dark grey cloak over it all. She couldn't help the smile, though she tried to keep it small. Chill grey dawn made them both even paler but the dark contrast of hair and eyes framed in black made him striking.

She saw him glance at the large bundle of dark cloth lashed behind her saddle, before walking past. There was a low buzz of awareness now, in the back of her mind. Shields back to a normal level so she could have a general feel of the people here with D just a slightly sharper note than all the rest.

"Where do you head, D?" The question was out of her mouth before she could think. She winced before turning to look over her shoulder.

"East."

Dark amusement rolled through her at what he would find, but she kept that to herself. No fun to be had if he knew to soon.

"I go west. Perhaps we'll cross paths again soon." If he was hunting who she thought, she was anticipating the reunion.

"Perhaps."

"D," wait for him to turn with a faint look that said _yes? I'm busy_, "In truth, I am honored to finally have met you. Keep well." Turn back straight and gather the reins.

"Court manners."

_Uh-oh. _It was a statement, but he felt puzzled. She turned the horse a step to the side so she could face him without looking over her shoulder.

He was studying her.

She kept straight and tall in the saddle and matched him look for look. She had no intention of backing down. She was not ashamed of what she was, but… "I wasn't raised in a court."

Another long moment while the world held still. Then he bowed. Not deeply, just slightly, but she recognized the acknowledgment all the same.

_Court manners, indeed. _

She nodded back, turned Nephrime to the rode and left the inn behind.

She waited until well past the edge of town before pulling up the deep hood, it was better to let the town's people see her leaving, and raised a hand to the few people that nodded to her.

_So D is heading east. I wonder if he'll be surprised._

A secret smile as she glanced at the bundle half hidden by her cloak, before urging Nephime onward.

* * *

><p>The wind tugged at his cape and threatened to carry his hat down into the ravine. Loose dirt crumbled away from the broken edge nearest him. The storm at the inn had not made it this far leaving the scene undisturbed.<p>

Four days of riding to discover ribbons twisting and snapping in the wind. Wood and steel were scattered like broken bones and the carriage itself looked as if a giant had stepped on it. The horses were long gone and the scattered ashes and lingering aura gave testimony to the battle and demise of a vampire.

A fight took place here, short and brutal. The shattered remains of a coffin, the damaged cliff face, the great sweeping gouges in rock and sand. All gave testament to the fierceness of the attack. A fierceness that felt off, wrong, more viscous than expected. Something lingering in the shape of the tracks and the pattern of the fall.

Adrian hadn't stood against her long. He had no doubt it had been the young woman who had been the aggressor. The taste of her aura clung to the wreckage below.

D dismounted and picked his way down the cliff, passing the being in his hand over the deep grooves.

_"These weren't made with a blade, D. Some kind of magic, I'm guessing from Adrian. Quick to tear into things, that one."_

The bottom of the canyon was littered with debris but the main body of the carriage was against the far wall. Sand shifted underfoot as he approached but there was nothing besides himself in the area.

_"I wonder how she finished him off? I mean the girl was good in a controlled spar, and don't get me wrong that figure could distract anyone that ain't dead, but Adrian wasn't a light weight, ya know?"_

"I don't know."

Turning over pieces of broken door and roof he saw where hands had torn open the frame, possibly to yank the coffin out into the sun.

_"And the assault? He didn't strike till after the carriage was falling."_

" There were solid marks at the top. It didn't swerve off the cliff. He was stopped and then pushed over."

_"You really think a little thing like her could do that? Just shove a whole carriage off a cliff before Adrian could react, no way. I don't buy it. Hey what's that?"_

He had unearthed a shoe, small and scuffed and most definitely a child's. He closed his left hand around it and felt the parasite shift.

_"Hmm. This is the same kid. Uh oh."_

"What?"

_"The kid was turned. It lingers in the scent, in the taste. He was already dead and turned before we left that last town."_

D took a breath and stretched his senses outward until the light sharpened to near painful levels. The sound of wind echoing off broken walls, the scent of sand and heat and rage, the taste of Wren's aura clinging to shattered wood and torn canvas, all wrapped around him. And a child's shoe settling as the central focus. Now he knew what was off, what had caught his attention at the top of the cliff. Closing his eyes he opened himself up and felt.

The canyon _screamed_ her fury.

"She saw the child."

_"Huh?"_

He looked up to the cliff edge, over the wall, across the ravine floor, at the coffin torn apart a horse length away, and finally at the broken remains at his feet with its damning little shoe.

"They were stopped in the shade. She would have asked for the boy. She found him already turned." He could almost see it, hear it. She had left a strong impression, over a week later and it still echoed. "She lashed out, the carriage fell. There is no blood and she was not injured. He missed when he retaliated, and he couldn't leave the safety of the dark. Adrian was a distance fighter. She tore him from the carriage, but was careful to only break open what was needed. She left him in the sun, then waited until dark."

_"Are you fucking with me? You think she burned the bastard and then waited for the kid to wake up?"_

He didn't respond, releasing the press of his senses back to normal, hyper awareness falling away. The memory of moonlight and shadows played, thoughts on strength and kindness. And the violent nature no control could truly banish. She had not reacted well to the child being turned. But there was still kindness.

_"Hey!"_

She would not have needed full dark to get the boy. Just wait until the canyon was without sun, remove a corpse cold body, and take the head in one blow. Wait still more for the sun to set to take body and head up the cliff. The child was newly turned and would not have been able to wake headless. Keep the pieces separate and wrap it all in oil cloth and the shape would match the bundle she had carried west.

_"Are you even listening! Why would she do something stupid like that? The kid was turned, she obviously killed one vampire why not the second?"_

"Kindness."

He gripped his hand closed before more questions came. The mother's family had not mentioned releasing the bounty to other hunters but it did not surprise him. Her being near two weeks ahead of him did. She must have been near when the attack happened to respond to the cry for help so quickly. At the inn she had been heading back the way he came, had already stopped for the day, likely for similar reasons, and stayed even longer than probably intended. She would have missed the storm if she had not helped him.

The strength and grace, he had thought, the fierceness and the control to keep it reined.

_The sadness._

Unnecessary kindness, storm drenched laughter, and the manners of Noble court. She was taking the child home.

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you so much to those who review, I look forward to what you think of this most recent chapter. Any one care to guess what happens next?


	6. Chapter 6: At Last We Meet

Two weeks. She had two weeks at the most before D caught up to her, if he even followed. There was only a small feeling of doubt on whether he would come. The body she carried and the mess she left in that canyon would at least be interesting, provided he realized she had taken the boy instead of burning him.

She placed the last piece of wood and stood back. The small pyre was laid and the sun would soon rise. This little valley was half a day ride from the boy's former town; it was as close to home as she could take the child for rites. She un-wrapped the oil cloth, slid the small vest off, laid the body on the wood, and placed the head. A square of cloth separated the head from the neck, he was too newly turned for it to be necessary, but she preferred to be cautious.

Birds whistled and fluttered in the predawn as she settled herself tailor style on the ground. Everything was prepared; all that was left was to wait. Studying the small form before her was a sadness. He reminded her of her own childhood in a way, fear and hunger and pain should not have been his last days. He should be greeting the dawn with his family not lying on a pyre made by a stranger with those he loved far away.

Thoughts of his family and death led to thoughts of her own, ones she tried not to dwell on but inevitably surfaced. Home was dark. Father was fear. Mother was pain.

_No. I will not think of that. Not here, not now. Now is not for me. Now is for the dawn and a child and I will not soil the peace to be had with my pain._

She stood as the sun crested the horizon.

_"I commit this child to the earth that is our bones,_

She dashed the salt.

_I commit this child to the water that is our blood,_

She sprinkled the water.

_I commit this child to the air that is our breath,_

She felt the breeze.

_I commit this child to the fire that is our spirit._

She lit the pyre.

_May your soul rest forever in peace."_

She stood witness.

* * *

><p>Hard riding put him half a day's ride from the town in a week and a half. Only the symbiote's insistence had him turning into a small valley nearby. In the center of the valley was a patch of ground burned bare.<p>

_"Let me see."_

He placed his hand on the blackened earth, felt the coolness. This fire was long finished but the earth around was warm.

"Rites."

_"Yeah, good ones, too. Someone raised this kid up with a weird library. Or a Court upbringing. Either way, she knew what she was doing. Dawn ceremony close to home, and she did it about four days ago."_

D rose and remounted, he was close.

Early evening saw him to the door of the boy's aunt. A willowy woman with red eyes and baggy clothes, testaments to her grief.

"I already paid the girl, she came to me first and she brought me Calebb first." Firm voiced for the hoarseness.

"She did not bring the boy here."

More tears. "No, she brought me his vest, said she was too late, that Calebb had already been turned, that she made sure he didn't suffer." A sob. "Why? Why would he take a child like that, destroy a family, kill a little boy!"

"I don't know," D turned to leave.

"Wait, why did you come here if not for the money?"

He waited.

"You're looking for her aren't you?"

He nodded.

"She said to tell you she was heading north, to the forest."

D looked at the woman, saw her slight smile.

"Will you follow her?"

D walked out the door. There was no need to answer. He would not follow.

He was hunting.

* * *

><p>Someone was following her. Had been for half the day.<p>

Wren loosened that grip she kept tight within herself and felt the area, they had yet to get close enough for her to feel them otherwise. Aggressive, with something familiar in the stalking. She had only been in the woods for a few days and was expecting a dark figure. She had no idea what had possessed her to leave a message for a bounty hunter with a grieving woman, but she had.

She continued riding north, deeper into the forest. This time of year there would be a small caravan of people camped in the north of the wood and she looked forward to seeing them again. Although her shadow was not something she would lead there if she could help it. They were behind and to the left, more than one person. Well that ruled out one possibility, unfortunately it left several others open.

Maneuvering Nephrime around a large tree with low hanging branches made disappearing easy. Just reach up, grab hold , and lift herself into the tree. Nephrime ambled on.

It took three hours for her followers to pass by, using the trail left by a horse with no rider. Four men, all human, all armed. Lust and greed and the sick anticipation she had come to learn to avoid. She knew their plans as clearly as if they spoke them out loud.

Rape, murder, sell what was left.

They thought she was human, then, thought she was helpless. Ridiculous.

Another ten minutes before she dropped to moss covered ground, soundless as the coming night, and followed her hunters. These men would have no idea of the trouble they had asked to join them.

She had followed them for an hour, honed in on each man in turn, drifted between trees with none the wiser as she balanced on the bitter edge between _self_ and _other_ as she learned the taste of these pathetic humans.

They had camped at dusk and she had left them to it, sprinting ahead to Nephrime. Her horse had wandered at a slow pace to a small hollow. She huffed in greeting and settled with warm words and soft hands, nosing for a sweet. Wren fed the sugared fruit to her as she scanned the area. It was a good as place as any to leave her horse, no predators were near and Nephrime carried her scent so none were likely to close in on her.

The only thing to worry about was the delay this day and night were costing. If he was following then he could find her sooner than she planned. There was no need to let him corner her while she was alone, not this early in the game. As much as she wanted to get to know him there was no way that someone so used to being alone would volunteer information about themselves freely and without censure. So, a chase, in a way. There had been intent in him that night on the roof, intent and restraint.

But now was not the time to think of that, now was the time to show those four fools what it meant to be stalked.

* * *

><p>Echoes in the night had them jumping awake all throughout. Washes of terror made the animals cry and fight for freedom, made shaking hands and stumbling feet work hard through fear and exhaustion. Missing weapons made them angry and bicker among themselves. Eerie eyes had blinked from trees and shrubs and the tug of sleep would hit hard only to be shattered by the scream of a predator moments later.<p>

Something was out there and there was nothing they could do about it.

* * *

><p>Wren couldn't help the self-satisfied smirk as she lounged in a nearby tree. She had harassed the men and their animals all night, playing on their fears and magnifying them, pressing their exhaustion and spiriting the weapons away. The fire had been used to her advantage as well. She knew well enough what the gleam of light off her eyes seemed like, it was any easy thing to move around the camp, let them each catch a glimpse of gold glowing in the dark. They were all spooked, wide awake and fearful, waiting for dawn.<p>

_Still an hour away. Almost time._

She waited a little more for the grey light and the smoky wisps. She had them ragged and weak. A little longer and it was so easy to slip the leash she held on herself, on her power.

_Never could resist a dramatic opening._

* * *

><p>It was like something out of a dream. Danny had no idea how long the woman had been standing there, he had almost missed her with how she blended into the mist. Dark cloth bled into the shadows and pale hair drifted loose over her shoulders, like she was formed as a spirit of the woods. Pale skin, so pale blood would glow against it like fire.<p>

_Beautiful_.

She smiled at him, pale eyes locked on his face even as the others turned and asked what he'd said. But he couldn't say, she was smiling at him, just for him, only and always for him. Quite and still and smiling just like he always wanted them to be. He could feel the others go quite, knew they had finally seen her. He wouldn't let them have her, she was his. His dream made of forest mists and morning shadows. His dream come to give him the perfect ending.

_Mine!_

There was a knife in his hand, the weapons had disappeared in the night but he has his knife back. His knife that had carved up those pretty face because they wouldn't smile for him. She gave it to him, to protect her. He looked at it to make sure it was there, make sure it was real. There were hands on him and voices asking things but it didn't matter. He had to protect her, make sure he was the only one who touched her. Danny looked back up to the woman in the trees. Her eyes were still on him, she was still smiling, she nodded.

He struck. Driving his knife back into the gut of the man behind him and twisting as he pulled it back out. The voices rose but the hands fell off and he twisted around to face them.

_Mack on the ground with a belly wound, Stonn with a lit branch, Ben empty handed._

He went for Ben. Ducked the fist and tackled him to the ground driving the knife deep into the ribs. He rolled away in time to see the branch come down and land on Ben's chest making the man yell and Stonn to drop the branch. Danny rolled to his feet grinning. Just one more and he'd take the dream into the woods. Take and strip her, watch pale skin frame red lines, watch her smile even as he killed her. It would be perfect.

Stonn was yelling something but Danny didn't care just walked towards him grinning. Stonn turned to run, turned right toward the woman in the mist and Danny couldn't let him. Wouldn't let him get near her alive. He lunged and took the man down at his knees. Stonn was struggling, trying to get Danny off his back but he wouldn't roll. Danny brought the knife down hard. Then he did it again and again and again. He didn't stop, could stop, not until her hand touched his shoulder.

Close up she was beyond beautiful. She was the glory of death in her face and the light of forever in her smile. Her eyes were gold but in them he could see storms stretching on an endless horizon.

_She is rapture._

Danny didn't hear the pained sound of his men dying, didn't feel the dead man under him, didn't know he had died. There was a knife in his chest with his hands around the hilt and she was smiling at him, just for him, only and always for him.

* * *

><p>There were four men in a clearing in a wood. They were all dead, all killed with the same knife buried in one man's chest. All the blood that should be there was. D rode on.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ****Ok so there have been a few words said about chapter length so I combined this chapter and 7 since they went together really well. sorry for the false alarm. The new chapter 7 is under way and should be posted this weekend at the latest. I have been working hard on length and I hope to hear from you guys on what Wren does to those who followed her. **

**Next chapter: D finally catches up to Wren.**


	7. Chapter 7: At Last We Meet

He knew she had stalked them, though not why. Her scent had circled their camp, ringing it with the smell of a storm below the trees. Whatever they had done to attract her attention had kept her with them for hours, had kept her watching and prowling the edges of their camp as they turned on each other.

He knew she had watched them die, bleeding out like sacrifices from days long past.

He knew she had turned away from the temptation of fresh blood; there had been no evidence of feeding, no sign that those men had been her kill.

As it was, his desire to know what happened to draw her to those men, rough as they were, was only added to the ever growing list of curiosity concerning Wren.

_"Please tell me you're gonna ask what the stalking and watching thing was about, D. Kid's weird enough as it is, really don't need to add some kind of creepy voyeurism to the list."_

"Perhaps"

_"She's not really pushing to stay ahead of us, ya know. We're what, a couple of days behind her now? What are you gonna do when you catch her?_

"I don't know."

_"You're not one for a lot of talking and I doubt she's gonna volunteer a whole lot. Especially anything about a court upbringing. I mean, come on, D. Your gonna have to talk to her, ya know? Or not talk, heh heh. Pretty little thing like her, I'm sure she'd be fine doing… mph…"_

D clenched his fist on the reins to cut off the thing's voice. He didn't need to listen to the direction the conversation was headed in.

_That's not why I'm tracking her._

And it didn't need to become one of the reasons, either. She was the first dhampire that was like him. The first he had ever met that truly walked the blade's edge between human and vampire, that hadn't ended up corrupted by the Sire's bloody nature. Even when it seemed she had been raised, at least partially, in a Noble's home.

Strength and kindness, not a combination he had expected, but one that he was pleased to find, as well as will to leash her own vicious nature. The canyon had shown an abrupt temper that could snap faster than lightening without loss of control, and the Rites gave proof to the suspected upbringing.

_I will need to speak with her._

The camp at the north edge of the forest was not unfamiliar to him, the Kalindai had a long history with spending their summers here. That Wren had come to a stop among them was curious, though. He had circled the settlement and watched to see when she would leave but the girl seemed to have settled comfortably among them. A dhampire was moving openly through their camp and no one seemed to care.

_Curious, indeed._

* * *

><p><em>'It's surprising what the heart can make you do.'<em> Her mother had said that to her once, back when her mind was still her own. She had been running a brush through Wren's own hair, long strokes meant to soothe. Soft hands and gentle murmurs, praise and warmth, all wrapped in hazy dreams and golden firelight memories. That was before the world had crumbled and home had still meant safety.

Now when she thought of warmth and family she thought of the Kalindai. One of the first places she had found that felt safe when she had left. So many years later she was still welcomed among them, and she was looking forward to the rest. The general happiness of the group never failed to ease her own feelings, and she was interested to see what they would make of an unexpected guest. Welcoming they were, stupid they were not.

Even so many years later that phrase stayed with her.

When she was younger, freshly wounded in spirit and body, her heart had led her here. Through all the long years that followed her heart had always called her back to these people.

The past two days had been filled with warm hugs and children's laughter, working on the caravan's trucks and helping to mend worn clothes. There were dances and songs in the evening and stories around the cook fires. It had been a slice of the kind of life she would never have, but she did enjoy visiting. Chores, different clothes, her horse corralled with the others, she even had her tent when she visited. The wide skirts and long dagger were a relaxed state she didn't normally allow but here, with these people, it was as close to happy as she had ever found.

Wren was settled in front of her tent mending her own shirts and hiding from the noon sun when the giggles started. The smaller girls liked to follow and watch her. Most of the children liked to do so. She smiled to herself and started to hum a lullaby as she sewed. The little giggles crept closer and she purposely kept her eyes on her lap, lest they scattered.

When the girls had settled in front of her Wren moved from humming to singing quietly. It was once of the things she did very rarely, singing. The lit'lings joined in one by one, clapping hands and laughing while they sang. The feel of their little joys swirled around Wren like tiny suns, warming her in little happy waves.

_What better peace can be found, than in the love of children?_

When the current leader of the Kalindai, a large bear of a man named Jesse, approached with a grim look Wren knew that D had finally arrived. The girls scattered, skipping and running, still singing.

"There's a fella looking for ya, little bird." With hands stuffed in the pockets of grey trousers Jesse didn't look pleased. "Said his name's D, fella looks like yourself. Half-blooded."

Wren grinned at him. "Jesse, don't tell me you're having him held at gun point."

"No, but he's sittin' on that horse o'his at the edge of camp. Folks like you could do some damage if there's a tiff." There was humor coloring the edges of him but the headman's face was serious as his eyes followed the path the girls had taken.

She lifted a hand and Jessie gripped it to help her to her feet. Wren brushed off the wide red skirt she wore, checked the belt and sheath attached, and smoothed a hand over the laces of her vest. The headman watched her adjust white linen cuffs with a shaking head before tugging his own worn red shirt straight.

"No worries about a quarrel then?

"Course not, Jesse, and if there are any problems the Hunter and I will be sure to remove ourselves from the vicinity." She couldn't help but tease the man.

Ready to go and meet with the older dhampire Wren placed a delicate hand on Jessie's offered forearm and walked to the southern edge of camp. Her own pale hair loosely braided and Jessie's wild dark mane and beard made them look shabby court in a way. The matching colors of skirt and shirt only added to the look. Wren stifled a laugh behind her hand just as they rounded the last truck and saw the group of men watching D.

Dark eyes focused on them as Jessie called his men away and gestured the Hunter forward. D dismounted and approached, face as calmly blank as always, but the feel of him was a mess of puzzlement. Jesse stepped forward and Wren let him go, knowing he had to play his part.

"Our Wren here says we don't need to have any worries about you two goin' at each other in the middle of camp, you willin' to say the same?" The posturing of her friend had Wren closing her eyes and fighting a smile.

"Yes."

"Good. My boys'll take your horse and put it with the rest. I'm sure you've got things to say so I'll leave you to it." She lifted her eyes to Jesse as he turned and squeezed her shoulder with one large hand. "Be careful, little bird." She gave him a nod in return.

Then there was just D and herself standing on the edge of the woods. He looked the same, dark hair loose with cape and hat shielding him from the sun. Fully armed and armored, not surprising that he made people nervous.

She kept herself from reading him further and gestured back the way she had come.

"We can go into camp if you'd like. The others will be curious, but they won't press."

D turned and looked to the shade of the trees before looking back to her.

"That's fine."

Wren grinned and shook her head before leading the Hunter through the vehicles and tents. The whispers were few and not unkind and small heads peaked around tires as they passed. They knew Wren but this large black shadow of hers was new and exciting to the children. She'd never had someone come looking for her after all.

* * *

><p>"Here," she ducked inside a tent, "this is mine." D followed after, noting that it was an overly spacious circular room for a single occupant. The floor was cloth with large colorful pillows scattered around. There was a small stool and a basket of mending at the entrance. It was a far cry from what he had pictured for when he found her.<p>

"They will leave us be here," she said as she dropped the open flap, "and there's no worries to being overheard. Between the two of us I'm sure we could catch a snoop with ease." She was smiling at him as she settled on a pillow next to a low table. Wren lit the lamp and turned the wick giving the colorful space a dim light, more than enough for them both.

He watched her fiddle with the books next to her and settle her hands in her lap. Posture straight, head tilted, eyes near glowing in the lamp light. She seemed nothing like the violent creature from the canyon, nothing like the wildling from the roof. She was a Lady in this little tent. A Lady awaiting the pleasure of her guest as a proper hostess should.

_Definitely Court._

"I would that we didn't sit the day in silence, D. Jesse mentioned that you asked after me, why?"

"Jesse?" The man whose arm she had been on he was sure. D had noted the possessive stance the man had taken in regard to his 'little bird'.

"The man who spoke to you, he is the headman of the Kalindai. Do you know of them?"

"Yes."

A sigh as Wren dropped her head and closed her eyes. She grinned and slanted a glance at him. "D, we are not going to have a conversation where you only give one word answers." He watched her roll her head, stretching her neck before looking at him straight on. "I admit to my own curiosity for why you have followed me here. It wouldn't press to speak your own, would it?"

"No." A beat, then: "Why here?"

"Why here, what?" There was laughter lingering around the edges of her words. D sat still as she shifted, propping herself against her little table, long dagger shifted so she could lean comfortably. The dagger made him look for her sword. There was a mound of pillows by the pallet that could be covering her things.

"Why did you lead me here?" _Why did you want me to follow?_

"D…" It was said as a sigh. "Ask what you mean. Ask me truth, D, and I will tell you truth in return. I'll give you the same honor."

_Honor, not courtesy. Truth and honor._

The lamp light lent a warm light to her as she watched him. Blank and pretty like a painting. No more smile, just waiting. Waiting for him to ask a true question and waiting to ask him the same.

"Where did you learn to temper your nature?" Wren cocked her head and breathed a laugh.

"Not quite what I was expecting. I suppose I learned along the way." She was smiling at him again, mouth closed and eyes like warm honey.

"No lies. Truthful answers, Wren." Her smiled died, her eyes cooled.

"It was the truth." A deep breath as she looked at the flame in the lamp. Her face was serious now though her posture stayed relaxed. "However, there were many conversations with my mother when I was younger. About remembering how much stronger I could be than others. How fragile humans could be, to be careful. Then there were the Kalindai and the reality of just how much fiercer I really am. I hadn't truly understood before that, the violence of my own nature. I don't think I would have without something to measure myself against."

D recognized pain as Wren spoke, the pain of regret. "Who was it?"

"There was a boy, old enough to marry, that took to the idea that I was who he wanted. It was about a year after I had first come to these people. I was," Wren pressed her lips and looked at him, "I was healing, but I refused him still. I knew better. I was a _result_ of not knowing better. He pressed the issue, once. Nothing untoward, but I reacted badly. He knew what I was, they all did. I never made attempts to hide it."

D could see it. A pretty girl, wounded and needing a friend, the boy wanting to be more than that, two heads bent close as he tried to argue his wants, her backing away to flee. "I slashed him across the chest without touching him, deep wounds. I remember being so upset and how quickly it shifted toward deadly intent."

"He died."

"No, he lived. I ran, but he lived. I came back, later, a few months. I couldn't stand not knowing. He was scared for the rest of his life. He told me I would always be welcome here and that _he_ was sorry. I didn't come back for nearly a decade." There was something in her tone when she said that, some kind of sad fondness. Lamplight showed her solemn face.

"What happened when you came back?"

"Is that really what you want to know?"

"Yes."

"He had married, had three sons and another child on the way. I was welcomed. I was given my own tent big enough for a couple, which is a tradition that still stands, and when he had his girl-child she was named for me." It was there in her telling, he realized. To her life didn't start with those she had been born to, it started with the Kalindai.

"His name was Damor un Kalindai and he loved his wife and children, he loved his people, and he loved traveling. He loved the summers spent in the edges of this forest. They were near enough to the river on the west with plenty of grazing on the north for the horses, and enough space for everyone to settle for a few months every year. Highest of all, though, he loved this forest because he believed that if I ever returned it would be to here, to where I had left them."

Wren turned to look at him then, leaned forward with gold eyes glittering in the half light.

"He loved me until he died, D, and he raised his children to do so as well. The men who have followed him as leader of these people have been all raised the same way. Jesse grew up with stories passed down for nearly a century, grew up with a fairy's tale coming to visit, now and then."

D sat still as she turned her head and slanted a glance at the 'door'. Felt that stillness spread within him. Knew there were people laughing outside. Heard the murmur of voices only a few feet from them and the rustle of cloth, the sound of hammers and rope, the sounds of life undisturbed by the predators in their midst.

"They don't fear you, or me."

"Of course they don't. I've acted for them, protected them, and called them home and family for a long time. I've taught some of those women how to sew when they were younger, gone hunting with the old men when they were boys. Done the same with their children now."

"D, Jesse was worried by what you are because you have the strength to actually harm me, because if we had clashed in the middle of camp we could have done incredible damage." A ripple in the stillness at the notion of hurting this girl, even when he knew there was a very real possibility he may one day have to.

"Other than that, he treated you as he would any stranger come to call." She was back to lounging, and toying with her books again. She had given him more history than he had expected, but he still wanted to know more. It was his turn to answer, though. He could tell Wren was gathering her question to her, wording it before speaking. All at once he was struck by how young she was, compared to him. Barely into her adult hood, no matter how many years alone.

"Can it be my turn, D. May I ask you something, will you tell me truth?" Of course he would. She had set the terms and he had agreed. D doubted they would be speaking otherwise. He remembered the passion of life on a rain slick roof, saw now the vulnerable side of that same blazing fire.

"Yes." She wouldn't look at him. She had been strong and proud in the desert, now she seemed soft and reluctant, again the urge to touch. He had a feeling he knew what she would ask, was still not sure how to answer.

"I admit I looked for you to do so, but why did you follow?"

_Damn._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So we have D and Wren in tent together, who else is happy with where this is going? I forsee much time spent together ahead, however remember this will be a slow build, like either of these guys are the kind to really rush into things. Much love to you all and hugs to my lurkers!**


	8. Chapter 8: At Last We Meet

Over the years D had met no few creatures of blood and pain. Some were mutants, some were vampires, and some were men. Of those there were some who that were a mixture of things, half-blooded children drenched in their Sire's own terrible nature among his least favorite; Dhampires embracing fully their vampiric legacy, slaughter and indulgences of the worst kind. None had ever had the strength, or even the desire, to turn down a different path.

Except for the girl sitting patiently in front of him.

She had negotiated, he had agreed. An answer was required of him, but she didn't press, didn't huff or sigh or shift, none of the human things to signal inpatients. Just sat quietly, leaning against the low table fingers toying with the edges of a book. All the time in the world to let him gather his words and line them up. It was refreshing.

_"I admit I looked for you to do so, but why did you follow?" _Impossible not to.

"You wanted me to." The look she shot him was more irritated than not.

"Is that a statement or a question?" A brief shake of her head had a rope of silver spilling over her shoulder and pooling in her lap. "Truth, D, and not the two word version of it either. You did agree."

"I did." He steadied himself internally, drawing his attention away from the lines of silver and black and red to the pattern of the pillows stacked by the wall. Long conversations had never been his preference.

"The desert, I saw another dhampire that hadn't given over to blood lust for the first time. You were skilled, and then you were- kind." He left the storm unmentioned.

"Then the canyon. You were upset, lashed out and destroyed a fully blooded much older vampire. Took a child and delivered a kind execution, performed death rites close to his home." Each reason was being laid out with deliberate care.

"You settle among a group of humans who have more interest in your well being than most have for their own kind." The dead men were left aside as well.

She was studying him, and he kept her to the side of his vision while he continued to study her pillows. Piles of vibrant greens and brilliant blues, grey and cream swirls, checkered purple and white with gold edging along the squares. Such colorful surrounding and clothes, lively and alive and warm; things hardly found in any hunter's life, much less an outcast of any society, but she had found a place to have these things. A place to keep them and pack them up for safe keeping, where she could trust they would still be when she had time to take them out and wrap herself up in them again.

It made him feel a soft ruffle in his inner stillness, a whisper of longing rising up from a deep covered place within. He immediately cast it back down and smoothed those slight waves. All this while keeping track of Wren's stillness, of her bowing her head and her fingers shift to her lap to toy with the ends of her hair.

"Upset is hardly the word, D." His attention sharpened on her as he looked at her again, two predators in this small space. He'd been turning this over and over. No, upset wasn't the word.

"Rage bled in that canyon." Gold gleamed through long bangs and Wren huffed a laugh.

"Could you feel that? Or did you read it from the marks on the wall and the tracks of the ground?" She lifted her head and gave him a smile full of teeth and flashing fangs.

"Both," he said and watched her smile fade. Watched her posture slip back to upright and saw Court bearing in the careful non-stiffness to her shoulders, the tilt of her head, the fold of her hands. Mannerism she came back to without thinking about it, probably not something she consciously used to hide. Many times what wasn't said spoke loudest.

"What?"

Truth: "I saw the tracks and the wall and the carriage."

Truth: "I tasted fury and grief in the sand and the air."

Truth: "I know you didn't tip over the edge of your control."

It was quiet but for the barley-there breaths of them both.

"I don't understand." Without his hearing he wouldn't have heard her. Wrens eyes were fixed on him, her attention riveted on him and some part of him whispered that it felt good, that she should be like that always. He shook that part away.

Leaning forward D laid out his last truth: "You are the first and only dhampire I have ever known to turn away from their Sire's way." Shocked painted itself across Wren's face. "The only one to walk the wire thin path between human and vampire, to choose to live as something other than-"

"A monster?" It was said coldly, shock replaced with a blank mask. Aloof but for the fire in her eyes, then those too were shuttered.

He let the quiet sit for a moment. "A nightmare. Every other dhampire has followed their Sire's nature. You have not."

That brought a small bitter laugh. "I'm still a nightmare, D. We both are, just not to those we were bred to hunt. Instead to those who we've chosen to."

"Fair." That was one of her truths then.

* * *

><p>The predawn light gave the mist filled camp a hazy glow, all grey and brown and green. Soft halos of light around low burning fires added an unearthly feel, even knowing the camp was filled with humans.<p>

_Not only humans_ D thought as mist stirred around a slim figure.

D had notices the patrols Wren made, regardless of the nightly watch. Pairs of men stationed at cardinal points, changed every four hours from dusk until dawn. Not unintelligent.

Even still, Wren made a circuit of the camp at dusk, two hours after midnight, and in the predawn. Around and through, he'd yet to decide if this was habit for every visit or not. He'd yet to ask, asking meant answering. Outside of their discussion when he'd first arrived they had spoke little. The questions and answers gained in her tent had required more thought before any others were raised. Before they had parted she had asked him to stay.

_"Please, if there is no reason you need go, stay. At least a few days."_

It had been a week.

He stepped into the small tent, the Kalindai had placed it near hers, in the evening and he walked the close woods at night. The sentries were used to him now, he made sure to pass them when coming or going. Men nodded to him, women smiled, and children tried to sneak after him. It was the easiest reception he'd had from a group of humans in a very long time.

Then there was Wren. A week and he'd noted her patrols, seen her playing with children, and talking quietly with the elders. Mending and cooking and laughing. When she was here it seemed she immersed herself completely into these people, it was little wonder they loved her, and they loved her with no influence from Wren herself.

One of the things he needed to think on, her empathy. A week and he was still undecided on the issue. He had held himself in a center of calm when they spoke, a state he kept himself at normally but this time with he did so with more awareness and a deeper level of stillness. The parasite had mentioned finding no influence on himself or the Kalindai, that all psychic traces seemed passive: meaning light scans, a glorified mood ring at most; and yet he was still reluctant.

Four dead men in a forest camp, psychic resonances gave clue to outside interference. The physical marks said she never touched them, but her scent had been a thick ring around that camp.

Wren could be incredibly dangerous.

He stood and watched the mist burn away, then turned back toward the section with their tents. It was time for another answer.

* * *

><p>The shadow that stopped against her fabric wall was distinctive and unsurprising. She called an invitation and D stepped into the twilight morning of her tent. A gesture had him seated in the same place as before and she closed the book she had been reading at her little table. All of a sudden a week had never passed. She gave a wry grin, inviting him to share in her amusement, and he remained impassive. A still pool as he had been for the last week. No more glimpses of a soul worn thin by loneliness, no more ruffles of his reactions like at that inn.<p>

This didn't bode well.

"Truth, Wren." _Damn._ "Tell me about your empathy."

_By spirits old and new he did not just ask me that!_

"D," throat tight she could feel the bottom drop out of her stomach. This wasn't happening. Instinct had wren twisting to rise and bolt before she really thought it through. Which only ended with her on her back and a mildly irritated Hunter pinning her there, embarrassing even with anxiety tightening her chest. _This is what I get for wearing skirts. _Said skirts were now tangled around her legs with a very male knee keeping them that way. Her left hand was still free but she wasn't so far gone as to reach for a knife. In no way did that end well.

"My truth for yours, Wren. That was your price." Why did he have to be so close, above her but not touching, it was like have a rumble of thunder break right overhead. A knee pinning her skirt to the floor, right hand on her wrist, and left supporting his weight near her ribs, she realized she was being caged by a storm. She couldn't breathe. Rich brown hair fell around them, curtained them from the world. It focused her on his face, his eyes. She could almost feel the charge before lightening.

"They don't know." She gave the words to him like a prayer, on less than a breath. "The Kalindai, they don't know." Cocoa. His eyes were the same rich brown of cocoa. D studied her before rolling to the side. Wren had to close her eyes to focus on just breathing for a moment. All she accomplished was dragging down breath after breath of D's scent, it wasn't helping matters.

"Tell me." The only thing worse, Wren decided, than sitting across from D while he spoke in low rich tones was listening to that voice come from so close next to her while her eyes were closed. That left room for too many imaginings, and she had been doing so well not to let her thoughts travel that way.

Another dry swallow, before she started. "I've always been this way; my mother once called it a gift. Rarely have I ever agreed."

She kept her eyes closed and couldn't bring herself to speak above a whisper. "I didn't interact much with anyone when I was younger. A lot of time spent reading, with my mother, on my own. There were people around but I wasn't to speak with them, they were to be ignored. I could still feel them. They hurt, all the time. They were afraid, always. My mother- my mother was always sad, crying inside. It felt like standing in winter rain. The only time it stopped was when she would brush my hair. A thousand strokes and she would sing soft songs. It was the only time she felt warm." This was more about herself than she had ever shared before, early life was not something she talked about with anyone.

Home was dark. Father was fear. Mother was pain.

"I eventually learned to block it out. It's a constant thing, even now, though it doesn't take nearly as much effort as when I was younger. I didn't really learn how to keep myself to myself until after I came here for the first time."

"The boy you nearly killed." That did earn him a sideways look.

"Yes," she said dryly. "His tension didn't exactly help my own. I wasn't in the best of place before that. Then everything shifted and I was lashing out before I had realized what happened."

A long quiet filtered in around them after that. Wren closed her eyes and just listened. The camp had been awake and active for some time now but in here it seemed their own little world. It was rare for anyone to call on her before noon, even then it was mostly in the evening unless she had the flap open or was outside.

"I can have a general sense of those around me when I'm holding it closely, but not trying to lock myself up tight. That's generally where I stay. Some people are more open, easier to read, than others. You are a quiet spot in this camp, more so now than at that inn. Humans generally give no thought to keeping themselves to themselves, but I'll run across a difficult one now and then. A bit of focus directly on them is generally all it takes. I'd have to actually dig with you, and you'd probably notice. I'm not particularly keen to _try_ either. Crowds have a collective feel to them, individuals can stand out." Threading her fingers over her stomach and turning to face him she felt more centered. This hadn't gone horribly wrong yet. "Anything else?"

His hat was on the floor and he was still on his side watching her, right hand propping up his head and left flat on the floor next the her waist. She should feel like he was looming but he was to still for that. Still, they were steadily heading towards unnerving.

"The courtyard at the inn."

Really she couldn't help but sigh. "I was focused on you." A flicker of something in his eyes had her huffing, "Not like that." That won her an arched brow. "The fight with you had my focus, there's always some part that's focused on," drumming her fingers on the stiff leather over her abdomen she searched for a better word and found none, "keeping _shields _in place. I had them pressed tight as I could and could still feel you." The displeased hum escaped more or less on its own. "But most of my attention was on what you were doing and not getting caught out on your blade. The crowd took me by surprise."

The explanation seemed enough when D just closed his eyes. That odd buzzing stir happened again, still an unfamiliar sensation: like drops of rainbow oil on the still water that was D.

Still watching him she couldn't help but cast back to that burst of concern, that solid line from shoulder to hip that had helped keep her grounded. She didn't like crowds for several reasons, mob mentality being a large factor, the Kalindai notwithstanding. Mobs and trees were bad to have together.

Also it seemed fair to assume it was her turn.

"How did you know?" Cocoa eyes opened and watched her; she let him have his time. His patience had let her answer drag 'til nearly noon.

After long enough she let her eyes drift shut, it was nice to just rest with someone near. Uncommon enough of an occurrence that there was no way she wouldn't take advantage; she let herself relax into a light doze. Even with the shift of fabric didn't fully draw her attention, only to startle at the slight tug on her hair. There was the barest of smiles lingering around D's eyes and mouth before his expression smoothed back to neutral. Evidence of his guilt still trapped by his fingers.

Another long period of quiet stretched and filled the spaces between them as D seemed to gather himself, toying with the strands of hair. The quiet was broken by running feet and a shout.

"Miss Wren!"

The three boys that had run up to her tent calling for her could not have come at a worse time. This was a conversation she didn't want interrupted. The children's' worry was like little biting flies even as their words jumbled and fell like scattered jigsaw pieces. They had stumbled to a stop when she had flung the entrance open, D a great black shadow behind her.

"Boys." It was enough to stop them, wide eyes flicking behind her even as they bounced with nerves. "Travin, coherently now, what's wrong?"

Travin stood straight and still in the center of his little group, wringing his hands like a old Uncle instead of a boy of ten. "Berrin and Dale went out to the wood this morning. They were goin' to pick sweet greens, he said, even though they grow out past the river. Berrin know we ain't s'posed to go that far, not alone, but he wanted'd be a surprise. Made me promise I wouldn't tell Fa or Ma but 'es been gone all day Wren! Him and Dale were s'psed to be back 'fore lunch and none of's seen 'em!"

Wren closed her eyes and sighed, just knowing this was going to turn into one of _those_ headaches, as if her morning had not included enough stress thus far.

"Alright, Travin. Fetch Jesse and have him meet me at the horses, no telling any of this, just have him meet me there."

All three boys nodded and sprinted off, leaving her to deal with the guest in her tent.

"I would have introduced you, if that hadn't already been so wound up." Stepping back through the flap had D shifting back inside, just not very far away. She had to tilt her head up to look at him when they were this close. "I won't be out long, I know the area Berrin and Dale would have gone to. There're likely asleep, the little heathens." D remained the silent observer, watching her pull her sword from under the mound of pillows. "You can stay in here if you wish or go back to you own, I'm sure there is something on the cook fires from lunch if you've any desire."

A difficult thing for her to speak about, yes. Needing periods of quiet to brace for the next piece revealed, yes. She is still surprised how much time was spent in long comfortable silences.

"You're going out alone?"

She glanced up from adjusting her sword at her hip, belts crossing with the two blades on either side. "It's not the first time, D. Stay, relax, I doubt you do so very often," and then she slipped back out into the light, away from the cool pool of stillness D had become somewhere early on in his visit. It was unnerving to look at him and just feel- settled, centered just by his own centering. That experience hadn't lasted long with her own bubbling and shifting emotions. They had burned away the morning into early afternoon with their conversation, such as it had been. Wren had purposely kept herself to herself and D hadn't had a strong enough reaction to truly ruffle that internal iron grip. Only really having anything break through on that first day when he had leaned forward and she had _felt,_ like a bolt of lightning, his intensity when he said _first and only. _A moment dashed with her cut in, but it was a sharp sensation all the same.

One she'd rather not dwell on right this moment, not with the realization that he _knew _now. How he knew was going to be revisited even if she was the one who had to pin him to floor.

_Now there's a thought._

No matter, there was Jesse standing next to a geared up Nephrime, arms crossed and looking for all the world like a grumpy bear.

"Don't frown so, Jesse. You remember when I had to come chasing after you? Wandered out past the river, caught in a flash storm that swelled it beyond passing and no one knew where you went."

"Aye," came the rumble, "and I remember the tannin' I got when you brought me back, too. I'm t'take that Travin fetched me so it's his brother an' Dale that's gone off?"

"Yes, I trust you'll let their Fa know? That I've gone out to bring them back, as well." Mounting up Nephrim put her over Jesse's head, which was novel, and let her scan for a tall shadow that may have strayed along her path. Jesse followed her glance with a frown.

"Aye, I'll tell 'im. That fella's no trouble without you here, is he?"

"Of course not, to be honest I doubt you'll see him 'til I get back."

"Humph. Ride safe."

She really couldn't help the grin, "Now that's no fun." Nudging Nephrime into a trot she took off for the river with a laugh.

Twenty minutes later had her crossing at shallow wash out before the water deepened again and turning down stream. A long path to go on foot but an adventure she was sure for two thirteen year old boys. She really had lost count of the number of lads that hadn't needed fetching for one reason of another. Some off for greens, some just for play, others still for berries or taking a lass out for a stroll. When she was here it was always fun to ride out for them, almost tradition by now.

_It's been some time since last I did this._

Another ten minute trot and the bunches of sweet greens and river plums that she was looking for came into view, but no boys. They had been here though. The gentle bank was muddy and the ground torn up from pulled roots, fresh sap from picked plums. Perhaps the Fort a little further down, then. Moving in that direction she kept he scenes alert, all of them.

Further downstream, built past a bend in the river, there was a little lopsided structure known as the Fort. Decades old the place had been kept up by each new round of boys. All the men knew about it, of course. It had been there when they were children and it would still be there when this current lot became old men. It had sprung up one year and Wren had gone out to fetch the missing lads of that summer to find them fussing over filched wood and tools. Their faces when she had ridden up still made her laugh. Embarrassment and panic written on all their face so clearly she had braced against a tree and just laughed, which had just made them puff up in wounded pride and made her laugh harder. After the day was spent helping them find the right set of trees and showing how to build their little structure against and around them.

It hadn't changed too much over the years, the shape some as the trees had grown, but it felt good to look at it and see only happy times, only happy memories. Like with so many things with the Kalindai.

The Fort was empty of the Berrin and Dale.

* * *

><p>Two full sacks and three hours later Wren rode back into camp. Full dark had come an hour ago and with it her temper. Three hours of searching on foot. Scents just faded nearly a hour and a half walk from the Fort and at some point she had managed to get turned around. Her! There was no way that had happened. She had found herself staring at Nephrime not twenty yards away with the horse refusing to come any closer. By the time she had actually noticed the damn thing wasn't moving it was heavy dusk and she had no real recall of standing there for however long.<p>

_I lost time._

Riding away had felt like a betrayal, with something nagging at her not to go, not to leave them behind.

_Something made me lose time._

Now people were milling about and she just knew they were waiting for her, never had a trip out to collect some rascals taken so long. Temper already riding the high the buzz and snap of worry did nothing to quell her mood. And the look on Jesse's face did not bode well for keeping it leashed. She was already press as closed tight as she could go, but things were still leaking.

"Where's D?" She managed to keep the snap out of her voice, but just barely, as she dropped out of the saddle. Jesse's mouth thinned then opened-

"Here" A long black shadow peeled away from a tent side, calm barley felt because she refused to open herself enough to look for him. Not with the tension in the camp. She turned to fuss with some tack, kept her face down so no one could see her speak to him, he would still hear her.

"There something in the forest, ride out with me?" She glanced over and saw he was gone before turning to back to Jesse.

"Wren, where are they?" Strain around his eyes and in his shoulders, Travin peeking around his parents legs not ten paces away, this was not something she wanted to do in a crowd. Even this crowd. Especially this crowd. Reaching out a hand she drew Jesse closer to her and he bent his head to hear.

"There is something in the forest, out past the Fort. I found their bags, but not the boys. I'm having D ride out with me to find them. I _will_ find them Jesse but I need you to keep your people here. The dark won't hinder us and we'll move faster without others along." As she spoke the lines on his face grew deeper, the aggravation and anger in him churned, but he nodded, a tight little nod that spoke louder than yelling how unhappy he was.

"I'll double the watchers. Bring them home."

There was no other answer but to remount Nephrime and head back out. Past the camp lights and the sentries D waited on his horse. Pulling up alongside him she wordlessly handed him the bags and set a course back toward the river.

_I lost time._

"Wren" D's voice was low and it still felt like listening to thunder but there was a sick twist in her gut and she was gripping the reins to tight.

He hadn't done something as crass as lift the bags to his face and sniff like a dog but she knew he had the boys scent, if something had them D perhaps could find them where she could not. He had been a Hunter far far longer than her.

She pulled up at the river, bright with an early moon rise. "D, something made me lose nearly an hour of time." Leather shifted from the horse moving. Water rushed by, night birds sang. Her jaw was beginning to ache from clenching her teeth. D remained silent.

She had to look, sitting tall and straight she turned her head to find him watching her, knew her eyes had taken on an edge of heat even as moonlight made his gleam.

"Have you lost time before?" A good question, especially with her fear and fury spicing the air. Very not good, that.

"No." This time there was not keeping the heat from her tone."I've faced illusion before, and this was not that. It's not vampire's trickery or something of the forest itself. This area has always been clear of anything. Whatever this is, it's new here. The last few years at most, but there have been no mention of anyone going missing." She had turned away to watch the water but now she looked at him again. A slight frown had crept across his face, shadowed by his hat but not hidden.

"Show me."

_I don't want to._

She did.

For ever after she wished she hadn't.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So long time between updates, I know. Love you all tho. Crazy will happen in the next chapter and this thing will earn some of it rating. It is halfway finished and will be up within the next bit. I hope you all enjoy how these guys are interacting. Feedback is always appreciated (there are not words that can express how much I love you people).**


	9. Chapter 9: At Last We Meet

In a deep part of a forest at the base of a mountain range is the beating heart of agony. It masked itself in calls of loneliness, in echoing laughs to draw it prey closer. But it knew the touch of a predator, recognized the taste of something stronger than itself, and pulled all its lures close. The predator left and the creature turned back to its meal. It had been so long since ones so young had fallen into its trap.

Then there were two.

Hm...

This could pose a problem.

* * *

><p>He was looking for something.<p>

The trees here were large and close with small clear spots. It was early afternoon and the world was washed green and cool, the small clearings were warm golden pools.

He walked through the beams of light and patches of shadow soaking in the quiet. There was something tugging at the back of his mind but it was easy to dismiss. He kept walking, deeper into the glowing wood, still looking for something without really knowing what.

Then he saw her. Lying in a pool of light, vibrant green framing silver and scarlet. He stood quietly, afraid if he moved she would vanish.

Her eyes were closed with her face turned into the light, milk white skin glowing warmed by the sun. Silver hair spilled loose around her head and shoulders. White blouse with wide collar exposed shoulders and collarbone. Black leather corset outlined her petite waist against bright green and the wide flare of scarlet cloth hid her legs. She was sleeping he decided, calm and easy in the warm spot of sun.

He watched her until watching wasn't enough, he needed to touch, make sure she was real.

Moving forward softly, determined not to wake her. He knelt beside her, a black cape he just now noticed pooling around him. The need to touch pressed him but he held his resolve not to disturb her. It did not last long. There was the nagging in the back of his mind once more and again dismissed.

Those silver strands called to him, glinting in the light. Flickers of unease shifted through him but he felt no worry himself. He couldn't help but reach out and pick up a section of her hair, to let it run over his fingers like silk threads. So focused on the silver strands he didn't notice when the girl opened her eyes. Those flickers of unease settled into quiet and he glanced at her face, only to stare.

Gold. Her eyes were pure and bright as the sunlight falling around them, and they were fixed on him. Open, curious, calm. No fear, though he didn't know why he thought she would be. A slim hand lifted, tilted back the brim of a hat shading his eyes, and drifted to the hair spilled over his own shoulder. Fingers toyed with dark strands and she watched him silently. He couldn't not touch her.

His eyes didn't leave hers even as his hand moved from her hair to her face. Touching sun warmed skin softly, tracing her brow to her temple, down the curve of her cheek and along her jaw. He felt the hand on his chest still as her eyes closed and a sigh escaped. Released from gaze he took in her face and saw delicate, fragile, and young. So young, this dream turned solid. Her skin was soft under his fingers, her pulse fluttered as he traced down her throat and across her collar bone to her shoulder. Back across, fingers grazing fabric as he traced the swell of her chest, smoothing up to the other shoulder. Always only lightly touching, sliding back to her throat and press gently against the pulse there. Len forward as gold flickered open and his own heart sped to match her. Barely a breath away from her he felt her other hand settle on his chest, then slide so she was gripping his shoulders. A smile threatened at the mischievous look in her eyes.

A breath more and he'd taste her.

Then she pushed him.

Caught off guard he fell, rolling with the force se used, pulling the girl with him. A brief moment of feeling her pressed against him then she was continuing the moment to roll off him and up and away. Spinning she danced out of reach, hands wrapped around her sides as she laughed. The sound tugged at him, an echo of a memory. Not important, not right now as she spun away from him, still laughing, arms flung wide.

_Beautiful._

He rolled to his feet as she dashed back the way he came and took off after her. She flittered through the trees, seeming even more the dream, but he knew the truth. She was real and he would not let her get away... He let her lead the chase, enjoying the run as her laugh drifted back to him, drawing an answering smile. A few minutes more and he ended the chase by snagging her wrist and spinning her into him.

Her hair was tangled and wild, eyes glowing and bright, and smile wide. He crushed her to him and caught her surprised gasp with his mouth. The kiss was deep and hungry and eager. Small noises caught in the back of her throat and they pulled a growl from his own. Small hands griped his shoulders as she melted against him and his grip gentled even as her still. She moaned and shifted, making heat flood him, and pulled back to trace lips down his throat. A lick and she was gone, slipped from his grip like mist and dancing out of reach. His snarl made her freeze.

One step, two, then he was behind her. He could feel the heat coming off her, see her skin was flushed barely pink, distant worry in the face of her defiance.

The glance she threw over her shoulder held none of the innocent delight of before, now her glance said _chase me, catch me, can you?_ and then she was off. He raced after her ignoring that tugging in his mind and the worry it brought. There was another stronger pull that he followed. The pulse of _wantneedclaim_ rolling through him, egging him on his hunt, that would not let him stop. It drove him over, under and around trees and brush.

She moved like a ghost or a cat or the wind. Smooth and sure and swift. When she hesitated to glance back at him he had her. Pressed to a tree with the full length of her body trapped against his. He would not let her slip away a third time. The sun not as gold, the leaves not as green, the feel of dream fading. They had run far.

He did not care...

He...

Hands gripped his shoulders once more but to pull him close this time, not push away and he gripped hers in turn. Kissed her again and felt her respond instead of melt, meeting him in equal fervor. She knocked the hat from his head and fisted her hands in his hair, pulling roughly to deepen the kiss. Tongue tasting and teeth aching he complied with the demand. His own hands moved to her back, finding laces and pulling. Leather dropped and he smoothed his hands over her hips to her thighs, then lifted her and pressed her between him and the tree, pulled legs to wrap around his waist. The surprised breathy sound she made had him braking away from her to bury his face in her neck. She arched and hummed, murmured something soft and rippling, over and over.

It sounded like a lullaby and tasted like dying men's screams. He did not know what she was; only that she felt like burning alive and flying and gasping for air. It was glorious and painful and he had no idea how to pull back from this, how to disengage before he was consumed or unmade or reborn. She was fire, he felt that. Destruction and pain and the end of things. But in that he could feel new life and soft warmth and the candlelight that led men home. Life, he knew, could be more painful than the ending of it.

A thousand years in a moment, a gasp, a breath and the eternity that stretched on and on could be gone. She held more than his life in her hands, more than his heart. His very soul was wrapped up in this woman and there was nowhere to flee, no way he could. He had wanted. He had stalked and danced his way to where he stood with her. There could be no turning back now.

He whispered promises, petals of devotion falling against her skin, tangling in her hair. He watched her breath them in, trace them back against his own skin, blossoms forever etched into flesh and bone.

One hand gripped her thigh skin to skin, skirt pushed high while the other palmed her breast. He felt nails scratch the back of his neck. Brush his thumb over a hard nipple teased a strangled moan, his hand smoothing up to cup and squeeze her ass dragged out a whimper. Lips and teeth grazed her throat and she squirmed. All the while heat pooled in his groin, lightning danced down his spine and fire burned his throat. He groaned when she arched into him again, throwing her head back and exposing her throat. The urge to bite into that pure pale skin filled him.

_:No!:_

_What?_ Squirming drew his attention again. He had raised his head but was still circling his thumb. She was flushed and panting and making little noises that tugged straight at his groin. Nimble fingers stole over his chest piece, undoing latches and tugging it from between them, cloak falling away. The feel of warm hands smoothing over his chest to his waist was delicious, nails biting through the fabric drawing a hiss. He grinned at her, fangs gleaming in the shaded light, and dipped his head. She cried out when he tore the fabric of her shirt, baring her breasts.

_:Stop!:_

He sucked on a pale rose nipple, making her whine, and tugged on the other, causing her to squirm again. he nibbled and pinched making her arch and gasp, moved his mouth to the other breast and slid his now free hand from her knee up her thigh, thumb brushing the crease of leg and hip, slotting himself against her as best he could with skirts and pants till in the way. Lust and hunger spiking and rolling higher, consuming. Mine.

_:D!:_

His head jerked back _what?_ and teeth scraped down his throat, tearing a groan out of him.

_:D, please wake up! D!:_

He pulled back, stopped her moving, earning a growl and bared fangs.

_Wren_

_:That's right, D, wake up!:_

He looked at glazed gold, burning amber at the edges, and didn't want to stop. She was his, he didn't have to.

He didn't have to...

He should...

He didn't know why...

He just...

He set her legs down and stepped back, never looking away from her eyes.

This wasn't right

He still wanted, it hurt how much he wanted, but _this wasn't right._

_Wren_

Her face was a mask, wary and confused, one hand gripping her shirt together, the other bunched in her skirt.

_Wren_

She stepped to the side, away from him, unease washing through him. Waited for her to run.

_Wren_

He watched awareness fill her eyes and shock slowly steal across her expression, like a terrible dawn, even as he remembered who he was and how they came here.

_:D snap out of it. Come on!:_

"Wren." He had no other words, nothing else to give her in this moment other than her name.

She shook her head, tousled hair sliding over bare shoulders and flaring as she spun away from him. Lunging, he grabbed her before she could run, knew she would try, hands wrapped around her upper arms to keep her from fleeing. She just sank to the ground without a fight. He could feel a keen of loss building in his chest, warm rush of anger coiling beneath it.

"Please, D, let go." The words were forced things, bitten off at the ends.

D frowned at how hot she was under his hands, half kneeling behind her, he could feel that heat against his chest, hear her hash pants, and see flushed skin. He let go, smoothing his hands up her arms over her shoulders. She shuddered and curled in on herself. He was angry and concerned and aching in so many ways.

_Why do I feel... echoes..._

_:It's not you, it's her! Empathy, you fool; and you're both wide open! She's drowning in you and you're wrapped up in her! Pull back!:_

"D, I can't- please." It sounded like she was choking on the words.

He rose and walked to the other side of the tree. The afternoon was gone, early twilight under the trees. He could tell, now that he looked, that her aura was flared high and wild. He shifted his senses back to where he normally kept them, realizing he had been deliberately pressing his own aura against hers, locked himself back into iron control. Distantly, outside himself, he could hear her strangled sobs.

* * *

><p>Something had masked memory and centered everything on intent.<p>

He did not like it, and when he found what did this he was going to kill it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know it is short but it felt like a good place to end. Love hearing from you all, let me know what you think!**


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